


Shame

by flowersforgraves



Series: BTHB [23]
Category: Machineries of Empire Series - Yoon Ha Lee
Genre: Bad Things Happen Bingo, Gen, Mirrors, Pre-Canon, Self-Hatred
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-29
Updated: 2019-04-29
Packaged: 2020-02-09 15:53:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18641278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flowersforgraves/pseuds/flowersforgraves
Summary: There's too much bleedthrough between Jedao and his newest anchor.





	Shame

**Author's Note:**

  * For [UrsulaKohl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/UrsulaKohl/gifts).



> prompt from UrsulaKohl (via discord): rage against the reflection for Jedao
> 
> (card [here](https://flowersforgraves.tumblr.com/post/177921515881/); current list of claimed and filled prompts [here](https://flowersforgraves.tumblr.com/post/184520864361/))

Jedao doesn’t remember much, if anything, about coming out of the black cradle. His memories are mostly of either being in, or being out -- nothing in between, no transition. He doesn’t really mind, considering Kujen’s blatant disregard for other people’s comfort, and the little flashes of emotion he does have from those times really aren’t encouraging. 

As such, he doesn’t know enough about the anchoring process to be able to understand whether it’s gone well or not in a mechanical sense. What he _does_ know is how wrong this connection to the anchor feels, jerky and detached and all too present at the same time. He can already tell this isn’t going to be a horribly successful partnership, but -- he doesn’t really have a choice in the matter. His job is to serve, _I’m your gun, Nirai-zho, Kujen,_ and serve he fucking will. No matter that it leaves a sour taste in the mouth he no longer has, he’ll do it.

This anchor is a bit taller than Jedao had been in life, with a similar build and much more visible muscle. They’re the kind of Kel he’d have wanted to fuck, once upon a time. Maybe he still does, but it’s mostly irrelevant now. He hisses when he sees the reflection. The mirror shows the anchor Jedao’s face, and shows Jedao the anchor’s face. The anchor is a womanform, and their face is twisted in disgust. 

Jedao is barely oriented in the body before there’s a sharp pain in his -- their -- the anchor’s left hand. He looks up, surprised, and sees a spiderweb of cracks running through the mirror. It’s centered on their face, a snarl full of teeth only adding to the shock of it -- his anchor is _angry,_ but not so much as _afraid_. He feels them wind up to throw another punch, and it’s a horrible unbalanced sensation to hate the person in the mirror so much without even knowing their name.

“Stop,” he says, putting on his general’s voice almost without thinking. 

They stop. Their body trembles with fear-anger-hatred-sickness, though Jedao tries to stop that too, but he can’t, it’s overwhelming and intense and nauseating and Jedao’s self-hate swells up, mixes with the anchor’s emotions, and it’s too much, too fast, too hard and he’s hitting the mirror again and again and again--

When he comes back to himself, he can no longer feel the warm slick of blood on his anchor’s hands. It’s a different body, too. He can tell because this is a tall, thick-set manform, wearing facial hair and a severely cropped military haircut, and because the awful overwhelming _need_ to punish himself is -- well. It’s not gone, because Jedao hates himself and his reputation and his actions and everything else, but it’s eased a bit. It helps when the anchor doesn’t want to kill him so badly they’re willing to kill themself to do it too.

“Hello, Colonel,” he says, not entirely sure if his voice sounds as fragile as he feels. “My name is Jedao.”


End file.
